What Will It Take?
by Kiranoki
Summary: [Rafe x Reader Oneshot] It's the year 2000 and young Rafe invites you over to help him wih his homework. You take his offer and he reveals his true reason as to why he invited you over.


It was the year of 2000, your final senior year and the last semester was so close. You attended the St. Berkeley Secondary school, which was a private school with a 20k/yr tuition. It costed you 3 years of a consecutive 4.0 GPA to just be _considered_ for their scholarship application; but nonetheless, you were able to attend without having to pay anything. You took all AP courses to maintain your high 4.6 GPA, and you were well off to becoming this year's valedictorian… although Rafe Adler had surpassed you by 0.1 bringing his at 4.7. The guy had everything. A scholarship to the best Ivy League schools and many more including tons of back and forth relationships with flirtatious girls, the best car; just everything. You completely loathe him, yet you hate to admit you were in love.

You sat down in the library, embracing the smell of old textbooks. The interior was antique, yet modern. Tons of students were clicking away on the keyboards desperately trying to finish their senior projects. You were already done with that, so you began organizing yesterday's lecture notes for Forensics Biology. That's when Rafe sat across from you. 18 and already a millionaire, ready to inherit his father's business once he finished high school. He took out a thick textbook, flicking through the pages, taking notes very sparingly. You kept glancing over at his repetitive actions. It was as if he were mocking you. Spitting at your title of salutatorian. You continued organizing your notes, comparing them to his. He only wrote so little on his paper, while you had the whole textbook written on yours and yet you were still struggling to bring your A to an A+. He seemed to have it so easy.

"Do you need help?", a voice asked. You looked up, your [e/c] eyes gazing into his. He had a gentle smile on his face and for a split second it looked genuine. However this was Rafe, you heard the rumors. The kid is a psychopath if he doesn't get his way. Your eyebrows furrowed and diverted your look towards your notes.

You spoke, "No… I don't need help." Your face was beginning to become hot and red. Was it love or anger that was filling you up? Or the boiling stew of rage caused by this mocker? 7 years of maintaining all A's and this kid does it all with no stress at all. Like it natural to him. You began packing up your folder and other school supplies in your bag. The nerves of him to ask you. How pathetic. This was too low.

"Well… can you help me?" You paused as you looked back up at Rafe. There he was in all his glory, pretending as if he were so helpless. This joke was getting old real quick. You swung your bag over your shoulder, pushing the chair back in.

Your face calmed down, however it looked confused. You thought about what he said for the 5th time in your head. Help him? "I'm sorry, but what did you say?" you asked. He smiled again and grabbed his stuff as well. You began walking with him out the library, cautiously keeping your distance from him.

"I've seen your notes. Your report card-" He stopped himself quickly.

"My report card?" You began feeling weird near him. You continued walking.

"Anyways, I know you're good. You got the smarts and I need your wisdom." When did he pay attention to this? When did he actually notice you?

"Wisdom?" You stopped next to the main exit. The spring weather brought gloomy yet humid days. The hot air blew across you, gently pushing your hair to the side. You fixed it, bringing the universe's attention to what he had to say.

"[name]- I'm embarrassed to say this explicitly, but I do need your help for my senior project.". You stood there in shock. Rafe Adler was indeed asking you for your help. "Dear, a yes or no would suffice." You felt all sorts of mixed emotions. He never said anything to you for all four years at this school, and here he is acting like he knew you as a close friend. You felt the same, but it was hard to admit.

"I-uh… I guess," you two began walking again, "Hey! Did you say senior project? That's due first thing in the morning!"

He chuckled, "Yeah. I'm a slacker." He got into his car. You stood next to him. "Hey are you going to get in?"

"Get in?" You began nervously tapping your fingernails against the textbook. The air was becoming cooler. The wind seemed more strong.

"You said it was due tonight. Let's work on it in the comfort of my home." He threw his bag in the back seat.

You were constricted, "I have a varsity game to catch tonight…". Your words trailed off as he looked more confused.

His eyes lowered, raising an eyebrow. He pulled out a folded paper out his jacket, "[name] is off for a week due to having a sprained ankle." He laughed, "How's your ankle?" He seemed angry yet amused at the fact that you just lied to him. You were extremely embarrassed, yet angry as well. You began walking to the passenger door.

"How are you getting this information?" you said as you pulled on the passenger door.

"Money buys a lot." He replied jokingly. The ignition started.

. . .

"Breathless." You whispered as your eyes widened as he drove through the gates toward the mansion. On your peripheral vision, you could see him look at you and smile. "I'm honestly breathless; in awe actually."

"This is just the front," he said as he pulled in the main garage, "wait until you see the inside. My father brought in Italian based designers a few months ago to redo the interior. It's quite extravagant," he got out the car, but continuing his conversation as he opened your door, "It's quite… luxurious.". He paused to gently grasp your hand to lead you out the car.

"So is this how you seduce your other classmates?"

"No, because you're different. Those 'ladies' gasp at the saying of my name. They just want Adler to their last name and a settlement of 50% of my inheritance." he smiled, guiding me towards the front door, "I am a man who seeks to have value to my name."

"Oh, I see." You said, not quite understanding what he meant. Rafe was something different. He opened the door. "Oh my…". Your eyes were immediately fixated on the complex, beautifully made glass chandelier. The setting sun bounced right on it, brightening the room as if it were filled with a golden champagne.

He stood behind you, looking up, mimicking your awe, "Each piece was hand blown and gently constructed in France. A fine piece of art." His words were smooth and his voice was fierce.

You caught yourself, "So what is left to do for your senior project?". He also seemed to catch on as he took your school coat. He hung it up on the coat rack.

"Well, quite a lot actually." he acted as if his words didn't matter, as his mind was on something else. Your small short heels clacked against the floor. Empty.

"Where are your parents?" You asked.

"Let's see… last week it was a business trip now it's a vacation to relieve their stress from all their business trips. Malibu to be precise." You could tell he was hurt a little by the questions.

"Ah, I see." You looked upstairs to see a wooden door on the far right.

"Oh, the study room." He trailed you up the stairs teasingly, "I think you'd fancy this." The large door creaked open, "The finest study room money can afford." It wasn't a study room, it was a personal library. Books were neatly placed on the shelves and not a speck of dust was in sight. Maintenance was high. "I'd offer you a drink, but the rules entail that no beverages are allowed in this room. In that case, would you like a glass of champagne?"

"Rafe- we're underage…". You began setting your bag on a wooden table, making sure nothing was going to scratch the gloss laid on the table. You looked back at the door and Rafe was gone. You continued setting up your books next to the home computer. You turned around again to see Rafe bringing in a bucket with champagne, carelessly placing it on the table. He rested the two glasses between the two of you as he sat down.

"Call it a teenage dream, but I believe we do need some," he grabbed the bottle, reading the name, " _Veuve Clicquot La Grande Dame Vinta-ge"_ He said in an unidentified accent. He popped the bottle; smoke swirling around the top lip of the black bottle. "Sounds so sexy!" He began pouring; the glass instantly chilled, forming small beads of water dripping along the edge. You stared at the golden toned alcohol as he handed you the glass. The stem seemed so delicately made, as if anymore were poured, it would instantly crush at its own weight. "I have a proposal, [name].". You quickly averted your eyes towards his again. "I simply need you." His voice became more sensual, deep in a way.

"Need me?" The glasses clinked. You carefully took a sip at a newly discovered taste. You didn't gag, but it was a taste that you'd need to mature into. You set the glass down on a textbook, to again, prevent damage on the table. "Rafe, I only came here to help you with your work. What the hell are you going on about?"

"Are you sure about that?" He dragged himself along the side of the table, leaning closer and closer. "What did you really come here for?" You found yourself becoming smaller and smaller in front of him. His words and movements became more intimidating. You shifted yourself further in the chair, giving him more room to inch closer to you, "I need you to…" He looked away, biting at his lip, laughing away his sentence.

"You need me to do what?" You asked shyly. You felt yourself actually admitting to yourself that you really did love Rafe. You loved his charm, wisdom, and just about everything he can hold. He had power.

"I need you to come with me." He explained, "There's this crucifix. It's located in a prison in Panama-" The feelings towards him quickly went away.

"Woah, Rafe- what the hell are you talking about?" You sat yourself up.

"Look. All my life I've been casted in this shadow of my parent's fortune… That crucifix will get me closer to the Henry Avery treasure. Or so those losers say." He ended in question, slightly rethinking his own choices.

"Treasure? Henry Avery? Losers? Who else are you working with?" You were struck with a million questions. Confused and shocked, the situation became surreal and intensified.

"These two brothers. Anyways, are you going to help or not?" He placed the half empty glass down; a splash of champagne jumped out the glass.

"I'm not going to prison with you!"

He rolled his eyes, "You're not going to prison. I want you to be my researcher. You have the brain in this whole thing. I want you to learn as much as you can about Henry Avery during this whole trip." His explanation made it sound as if he had this planned for months. You began to recollect your memories. You can recall that Rafe has been getting closer to you. Transferring his classes to be identical to yours. It seemed as if he was always in the same room as you. You just got used to it.

"How long is it going to last?" You bought into his words. He smiled.

"4 months."

"Jesus! 4 months?!" You stammered, "What about college?"

He sighed, "Are you in or not? What will it take?"

"Nothing. It'll take nothing." You both sat in a room full of silence, "But I'm in." Four years of stressing out over which college to pick… and he just tossed it out the window.

"Good." He gently leaned forward giving you a small kiss on your forehead. "For many years to come." He grabbed his glass and so did you, and you both clinked and sloppily drank the rest of the champagne.

. . .

"What about your senior project?"

"I finished it last week."

"You're such a bastard!"


End file.
